Things We Said Today
by IndigoNowhereGirl
Summary: A collab with the lovely vickytmandy. Not ATU. Prim and Summer are friends sharing a flat in London in 1964. But what happens when Summer's job as a photographer leads her to a photo-shoot with the Beatles? Unfortunately, I don't own the Beatles.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors' note:**

**Beth: Hello, so Vickytmandy and I have been working on this story for you. It's really good (I hope). Anything to add?**

**Mandy: Hello readers:) I really hope you enjoy the story! Plenty of...er- hard work put into this one Ha. Okay, leave a review, yeah? And sorry to anyone who's reading 'Oh My Love' i just haven't felt like writing a new chappie just yet.**

**Beth: Enjoy!**

Chapter 1

Summer

Was I pissed? Oh yeah, I was pissed. I trudged up the staircase, trying to simultaneously unbuckle my boots and find my keys. I really hated these stairs. Words tripped out of my mouth, I had no idea what I was even saying. Finally, I got one boot off and left it on the stair as I ran the rest of my way up. Damn, was I late. I couldn't find my keys so I decided to plunge for the door and hope it would open. It did.

"Primmy, I hate him, I really do! Never want to see him again!" I yelled, surprisingly loud. I was always shouting without thought.

"Mmmhmm, can't say I'm surprised," She answered back monotonously. I would have snapped back at her, if I wasn't running so fast. I threw open my bedroom door and searched quickly for anything decent to wear.

"So what's he done this time? Over for good, huh?" She shouted from her room . I had found a dress and slipped it on roughly before yelling back.

"Here I am – like an idiot! – and so I walk into his room and there he is, with another girl!" I wasn't really sad about it or anything. I mean Noah . . . well he was just _Noah. _Nothing special I guess. But he was mine and that's what really pissed me off. Okay, I was a little upset.

"Was she blonde?"

"Ginger."

"Oh."

The conversation trailed off .I slipped on the heels I kept by the door. As I was running for the exit, I realized that I had forgotten something. The cameras, of course. I figured if I was late, I was late. Funny, how we just figure those kinds of things. I shrugged my shoulders and walked over to Prim's room. She was reading at her desk – most likely something boring.

"Hey," I lingered the word awkwardly. "How do I look?" She turned in her chair and raised an eyebrow.

"Where are _you _going – actually dressed within the limits of British decency? You're scaring me." I rolled my eyes and fumbled with something on her dresser.

"So it looks good?"

"Not bad. But where are you going?" I put down the thingamajig and stared at her with a smirk.

"Meetin' The Beatles today." I tried to hide the little bit of nervousness in my voice, but it was quite difficult. She smirked and threw one of her pillows at me.

"You bitch! How come I wasn't warned?" I rolled my eyes. Rock stars weren't new around here, but this was her favourite band.

"Well I would have . . . but I just didn't feel like it." She stuck her tongue out at me. Was she annoying, or what? I have a feeling that I'm worse than her.

"You're bringing one home, right?" I laughed.

"Well I'll try. I'm shooting for the Johnny boy. It's only gonna be him and Paul. Not all of them."

"Bring John, he's the hot one. Ah, the perks of rooming with a photographer."

I winked at her.

"Too much?" She smiled and went back to her book.

"Do you already have it set in your mind that you'll sleep with these guys, or is it something that just happens?" She asked with fake curiosity.

"Hey, it's not like I'm a slut or anything."

"Oh, so it just happens." She stated back smartly.

"I don't sleep with all of them. It's happened twice. Perfectly fine for my age, ma'am."

"Well, you are American, I guess it's normal for you."

"Yes, Prim. All Americans are photographers who sleep with rock stars. I'm sure it happens all the time." I answered back sarcastically and walked off to get my cameras. I was supposed to be on my way fifteen minutes ago. I decided it'd be a fine time to hurry up and so I began in a rush again and ran for the door.

"Alright, bye Prim, gotta go. Make me some food I'll be starving when I get back. . . Please?" I ran out the door and nearly tripped over the boot I had left behind. I ignored the arrogant cat calls from the same old men outside, and drove off.

Finally I had gotten to where I was supposed to be. I got out of the car and walked over to the front door of the place. It was nice actually – it must have been somebody's house because it looked nothing like a studio. I lingered a little before deciding to finally knock on the door. When I did, I had regretted it. The door was opened hastily by small maid.

"Oh, hello. Are you Summer? The photographer?" Ha, that sounded funny coming from her. I smiled awkwardly and almost forgot what I was here for.

"Oh, yeah. That's me." She smiled back and let me in. I followed her around to where I would be taking the photos. I wondered if they were here yet.

"Here it is." I peeked in the room from behind the maid and saw the heads of six men turn around to the voice. Yup, there they were, that was them. The famous John and Paul. I hadn't known much about them really. I guess it was just all the hype around them that made me so shaky. They're only human, right? I hope.

Two men that I didn't recognize stepped up.

"Ah, Summer? Hi I'm Brian." I shook his hand and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, sir." I put my stuff down and waited for everyone to sit back and relax around here. It felt horrible to make people uncomfortable. It happens a lot when you're new somewhere, I guess. I noticed John coming up from behind Brian. I wasn't sure if I should turn and introduce myself or just play it cool.

I turned quickly and nearly bumped into him. He smiled and rolled his eyes in a 'that's so typical' kind of way.

"Ey, I'm John. John Lennon – but I guess you know that." I smiled and took his hand.

"Cheeky much?"

"Very." He kissed my hand sarcastically and I smirked trying to pretend that I wasn't amused.

"I'm Summer. So, where's Paul? He's my favorite." I joked then quickly blushed when Paul came up from behind John.

"Hey, Summer. I'm Paul McCartney." I giggled as he also pulled the sweet gesture of kissing my hand. Must be a British thing.

"Hey, Paulie why don't we stand and look pretty to get this thing over with, yeah?" John snapped and Paul huffed as he walked over to photo area. I felt stupid. Like if it was completely obvious that I was watching their every move. Pathetic, actually.

I snapped the photos and packed my stuff up afterwards. I was tired. My feet hurt and I was sure that I was madly in love with John Lennon by now. Well who wouldn't be these days? He was quite the handsome lad. Time had passed and it was already dark out. All the other guys besides John and Paul had left. I slung my bag around my shoulder and yawned. I took my heels off and hooked them on my fingers.

"Alright, it was fine meeting you. You boy's photograph wonderfully, really."

"Hey, we're just glad you're not a fifty year old bloke. Say you're not too tired, right?" Paul smiled sheepishly.

"Um, no not really."

I lied. But you would too, hey. I noticed John rolling his eyes and messing with his hands.

"Why don't you come to this thing there is. It's like a party I guess. Y'know, for pictures." He winked and hooked his arm in mine.

"Oh a drink wouldn't hurt, huh?" I looked back at John.

"You coming?"

"No shit, Sherlock." He grabbed his jacket and walked in front of us.

The party was fun. It was the kind of place that was just bound to wake you up. Loud. As. Hell. Which was great, in my opinion. I spent the night dancing around with Paul and whoever else lingered around the place. I leaned on the bar with my drink. Paul was only a few feet away talking to John. It wasn't like I was _intending _to eavesdrop, but I did anyway.

"John, I can't do it. I forgot Jane's going to be home tonight. I'm screwed. She's yours." I shook my head at the stupidity of it. Did they really think like I was going to give in all that simply? I mean, I was. – For Prim of course (mental wink) but the idea that they already expected it to happen made me feel sort of gross. Johns smirk was almost audible. He walked up to me and grabbed my waist.

"I know you've been waiting for me to ask you all night. Let's dance."

"Calm down Lennon, why don't we just go to my place?" I decided to give him a pull. I mean, who was I kidding. I just caught Noah cheating; I wasn't going to sleep with this Lennon guy. Just make him think I was. I giggled a little at myself for tricking him so easily.

"Right, you get it. Lets head out. Paulie's getting a cab." I was the only one who had brought a car so we drove back to my place in it. The car ride was silent. Finally when we got there I laughed to myself a little.

"What?" He smiled and looked at me curiously. I shook my head.

"Nothing. Weird isn't it? I feel like I'm making a deal here. Not cool." He smirked and pulled a funny face. We walked up the stairs and I opened the door quietly in case Primrose was sleeping. We walked in and John leaned on the door.

"Hey this place isn't too bad, y'know."

"Yeah, I know." I answered back mindlessly as I poured us some glasses of wine. I gave one to him and lead him to my room.

"You can sit anywhere." It wasn't like there was anywhere to sit anyway. He laughed and sat on the rug. I laid on my stomach and took a sip of the wine. I waited for him to pull a move – very typical. But he didn't. Really he didn't. I was surprised but I didn't mind. We joked for awhile. Everything's funny when you're a little buzzed.

He finished all of his wine and got up to put the empty glass on the dresser.

"This is nice, what is it?"

"Wood."

"Obviously, smart arse. I meant what kind." I made a fart noise with my tongue and mocked him.

"Norwegian, you ass."

"Oh feisty."

I looked over at the clock. It was already two. I don't know why but I laughed. He turned around and mocked my giggle.

"What so funny?" I nodded my head and yawned.

"Besides your ugly face?" I joked. He pulled me closer and nudged my head.

"Now I was nice enough not to say anything about yours…"

"Not too close, Lennon. I work in the morning." I began to laugh again. He teased me and got even closer.

"I don't."

"Alright, it's time for bed." I pulled away from his hold on my arm and walked over to my bed. I giggled a little when he followed me. I got under the blankets and before he could get in, I kicked him a little.

"What are you doing?"

"You said it was time for bed." He answered innocently and raised his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes.

"Go home, John." He huffed and walked to the door. He opened it and closed it quietly behind him.

Prim

I could tell when I woke up that it was already afternoon. The spring sun was high in the sky and streamed through my thin curtains, the light dancing in yellow kaleidoscope patterns on my carpet. Through a chink where my curtains didn't quite meet, a beam of warm light shone down, illuminating the swirling dust like fireflies.

I rolled over, trying to go back to sleep and failing miserably.

After however long it had been I kicked off my blankets and stood in the comparatively cool air of the room. I stared at the firefly dust a few seconds more before flinging the curtains open and blinking in the sudden sunlight.

My eyes and brain still hazy from sleep I wandered down the hallway to the bathroom. The lino was cold against my feet as I came to the sink. I looked in the mirror and ran my fingers through my bird's-nest-like hair in an attempt to flatten it down.

As I was doing this my brain started to wake up and I became aware of a soft breathing sound (like someone was sleeping) coming from the bathtub. I stopped still and listened intently, sure that my mind was playing tricks on me.

I pulled back the shower curtain to reveal a man in a suit lying there, his face turned to the wall. Fast asleep.

"What the fuck!" I yelled. The man woke up with a jump. "Why are you in my bathroom? Who the hell are you?"

He looked up at me from the tub. Dazed and confused he said, "Calm it, love. I was only..."

"Don't you 'love' me," I trailed off. This wasn't a random guy that had somehow found his way into the bathtub. Staring up at me was none other than John Lennon. _The_ John Lennon. I remembered Summer telling me last night that she was going to photograph John and Paul. "Oh. my. God." I said, lost for words (which didn't happen very often), "You're... I'm...What..? Sorry," I held out my hand and he shook it, standing up as he did so.

"John Lennon," he introduced himself with a smirk that showed he knew that I knew who he was.

"Prim. Primrose Clarke,"  
>"Well Miss Prim-Primrose Clarke, it's nice to make your acquaintance," he bowed slightly, flourishing his arms wildly to show it was a joke. I blushed and giggled slightly. "I like your P.J.s," he said.<p>

I looked down and examined myself. I was wearing an old lilac night-dress that was quite a bit too short and thread bare. In all my daydreams I had not imagined meeting John Lennon dressed like this. I winced as I became aware of my appearance. I turned back to John.

"Thanks," I giggled, blushing profusely. John Lennon had just complemented me. The fact that it might have been a joke seemed irrelevant at that moment. Self-consciously I pulled on my nightie, wishing it was a few inches longer,"I'm going to get dressed," I announced turning to leave the room.

"What's the point in putting clothes on?" He asked. I stopped and turned.

"And what do you mean by that, John Lennon?"

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, looking me up and down.

"Do you really think I'm that easy?" I asked, John didn't answer but carried on staring at me, "Would you please stop undressing me with your eyes?"

"Would you prefer me to do it with my teeth?" he winked at me. I rolled my eyes.

If I'm completely honest, there was a part of me that did want to shag John; that would be a story to tell the grandchildren (or maybe not)! Then there was another part of me that kept reminding me of all the times I'd teased Summer about her fling with Bob Dylan last year and I knew I couldn't. The idea of her calling me a hypocrite bothered me. Then there was the most prominent part: the part that told me life was a game and if I had sex with John, he would win this round. And if I was anything I was a stubborn, sore-loser so I turned and walked back to my bedroom.

"I'm going to get dressed," I repeated, laughing and leaving the room.

I dug around in my drawers and wardrobe wishing I had more nice clothes. I had a few dresses but they all seemed far too formal for dossing around the flat. I got dressed into an outfit of blue jeans and a checked shirt before applying some eye make-up and heading out of the room.

When I stepped out into the hallway it was suspiciously silent. I looked around me and walked towards the bathroom. Needless to say John wasn't in there any more. I looked around the rest of the house before I walked back into my room.

"Raaaghh," he roared as I entered the room. I jumped half an inch off the floor and let out a small scream, making him laugh, "You should see your face!"

I made an effort to compose myself and changed the subject, "I don't remember inviting you into my room, John."

"You left the door ajar, that's practically an invitation," he said.

"Care to explain?"

"No, not really,"

I could see John as he looked around my room, taking in all the details. From the flowery sheets crumpled on my bed to the neat stack of rock and roll records stood next to my turntable to the corners of clothes peeking out of my chest of drawers to the heavy textbooks spread haphazardly across my desk. He walked over to the desk picking up one of the volumes, "Jurisprudence and Evidence essays by Hugo Tomes" he read aloud, "Why would you read this?"

"I'm studying law,"

"Sounds fascinating," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It is actually. Not that you'd understand any of it," I added cheekily.

John however didn't seem to be listening, he was scanning my bookshelves intently. Eventually he turned to me looking wounded and said, "You don't have my book!"

"No I don't. It only came out, what, four days ago?"

"Three actually,"

"Well then, your book's hardly top of my priority list,"

"Why ever not?"

I stuck my tongue out at him by way of response. Being flatmates with a photographer definitely had it's perks. There were bands and singers and actors hanging around the flat on practically a weekly basis. So when I met one that I liked I wasn't starstruck.

"Norwegian wood," he said knowingly, tapping my dresser.

"You what?"

"Norwegian wood," he began to explain, "That's what it's made of, Summer told me,"

"Word of advice, John,"

"Yeah?"

"Don't listen to a thing Summer tells you when she's been drinking," I grinned. "Do you fancy a cuppa?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

For the next hour or so John and I sat around the kitchen table drinking tea, chatting inanely and listening to the radio. Every so often a good song would come onto the radio and John would start singing along and we would dance round the kitchen. At about half one John looked over at the clock on the wall and announced that he should be getting home, but it was hardly as if he could just hop on the tube so he decided to wait for Summer to get back with the car so she could give him a lift home.

At quarter past two I heard Summer stamping up the stairs, casually tripping, and unlocking the front door of the apartment.

"Primmy, you won't believe this, but..." she caught sight of John sat on the counter as she entered the kitchen. "Are you still here?"

"No," John replied, using the exaggerated vowel sounds of Hollywood film hypnotists, "I'm an illusion!"

"Well, _you_ brought him home Summer,"

"I _did_ tell him to leave,"

"Do ye mind talkin' 'bout me as if I'm not here," John piped up, "And in case you're wondering I do need a lift home, ta!"

"Well, then," Summer said, "You get your stuff together and I'll drive you back,"

"She really doesn't like having me around, does she?" John whispered to me, making me giggle. Then he ran out of the kitchen, grabbed his jacket off the sofa put his boots on and fastened his tie.

"Ready to go?" he called already at the door.

All three of us walked downstairs to the car. We made our way across the car park in the sunshine, Summer unlocked the car and we all scooted in. Summer in the driver's seat, John called shotgun and me in the back. She turned the key in the ignition. Our old morris minor spluttered into life before choking and stalling. Summer turned the key again. And again, nothing happened.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath, crossing her fingers and turning the key once more. No such luck, the thing wouldn't start.

"Women," sighed John knowingly and Summer and I shot him simultaneous, identical dirty looks. He leant over and turned the key jerkily. The engine made a coughing sound and some black smoke billowed out of the exhaust pipe but the car still wouldn't start. We all cursed and looked around at each other, admitting defeat.

"I'll call George," John finally said as we all climbed out of the car, "Can I use your phone?"

"Course," sighed Summer, as she closed the drivers door dejectedly. We both stared at our beloved car, praying that it could be fixed.

We all walked back upstairs.

Half an hour later, we were sat on the front wall of the building, waiting for George to show up. After a while, a yellow mini cooper drew up and parked on the double yellows on the street next to us. George Harrison stepped out and walked over to us.

"Alright, John, girls," he nodded at us and I nodded back. Summer smiled at him sweetly and he winked at her. Uncharacteristically, she giggled and blushed, "Right John, get in the car," he said.

"Wait a sec," John said and he pulled me aside, "What if I never see you again?" he said, overly dramatically.

"Well, you know where I live so there's no reason you shouldn't,"

"Shh, I'm trying to make this romantic and your logic is spoiling it,"

"Try harder then," I said. Despite that John Lennon was stood right in front of me trying to be romantic I couldn't help looking over at George and Summer who were both flirting outrageously with each other.

"Shh," he said again before leaning closer and whispering in my ear, "Do you want to know a secret?" Then he walked off and stood leaning on the mini, calling George to be his chauffeur.

"Bye, Miss Primrose," John called out the open window. George waved to Summer before starting the engine and driving off down the street.

I turned casually and smirked to myself.

"John Lennon – Sex god." Summer giggled and stepped up the stairs behind me.

"And I was just asked out by George Fucking Harrison."

**ANs:**

**Beth: Write then(see what i did there?), well done for reading through that, and remember the review button is your friend.**

**Mandy: you suck. "Write then," Haaaa. And if it's your only friend, well then... good for you? Okay, and make the reviews good too. Theres nothing we hate more than a crappy review. This is our first collab:)**

**Beth: Do as she says...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Mandy A/N: Its my first time starting an author note on this story. I think we should all savor the moment. Okay, now that that's over.. Hello, dear readers! I'm sorry that we haven't updated sooner, but first it was my fault, then it was Beth's fault. Bla blab la, are you even reading this? All I wanted to say, is that in order to make your reading experience a whole lot better, I suggest that you imagine Noah like Noah from the film 'The Notebook' (Pre- Beard) Ah, he's just so handsome :O Oh, and I think you might find a few familiar words in here? Whatever, do you have anything to say Beth? Oh yeah, and thank you to all of those who read and hopefully enjoyed the first chapter (: Okay, Beth. Your turn..**

**Beth A/N: Um, yeah, I think you've said everything. Wouldn't it be nice if I could get a word in edgeways. So yeah, I'm sorry it's been so long but hopefully you can find it in your heart to forgive me? No? Okay I'll shut up now.**

Chapter 2

Prim

I got up off my bed and turned over With the Beatles for what must have been the fifth time that evening. I lay back down on top of my sheets and stared up at the ceiling. It had been the kind of day that you keep going over and over and over in your head. The kind of day you never want to forget. But of course every time you relive it you remember it slightly differently. So eventually every detail becomes more and more rose-tinted and you forget how you screamed at John Lennon like a crazy woman whilst wearing your ugliest pyjamas.

Still I didn't want to go to sleep. Partly because I wanted to stay up all night with my fan girl worthy heart-ache but mostly because I was scared I'd wake up and it'd all turn out to have been a wonderful and completely ridiculous dream. Like Alice in Wonderland.

I woke up freezing cold on top of my sheets, the record player still turned on. I rolled over and shot a glance at the alarm clock sat next to my bed. The alarm clock I had failed to set last night because I was too busy fantasizing about John Lennon. It began to dawn in me that I was late, really late. My lecture was due to start in exactly 7 and a half minutes and here I was on the other side of town! I scrambled out of bed and hastily threw on some clothes and unearthed my notepad from the textbook graveyard that was my desk. I slipped on a pair of flats and ran through the house. Out the front door promptly stood on something. I looked down and saw John's face smiling sheepishly up at me from the cover of a book. His book. I picked it up grinning and shoved it in my bag before running off down the stairs.  
>Damn those stairs, I hated them with a passion. Every time I had to leave the flat, there they were being steep and long and, well, stair-like.<p>

What with the car being broken, I had to take the tube and by the time I'd reached the university campus I'd already missed the first half hour of the talk. I slipped into the room and sat at the back trying to catch up with whatever was going on.

After the lecture I didn't feel like going all the way back to the flat so I stopped by a new café that had just opened nearby. I ordered my drink and sat down at a table by myself. I dug around in my bag for something to pass that time and pulled out the copy of In His Own Write that had been left on my doormat this morning. The zigzag pattern of the sole of my shoe had been imprinted into the cover from when I had stood on it in my haste earlier that morning. After reading the blurb I opened the book to the title page and found that a note had been scrawled over the copyright notices.

_Miss Prim-Primrose, _it read,_  
>I enjoyed myself yesterday morning, I found your flat lovely but lacking in two vital things. This book and a toaster, but I'm not going to send you a toaster because I don't make any money from it and this book is much better.<br>You're welcome!  
>Love,<br>John._

I grinned happily to myself and reread the note. Underneath his name John had written _PS_ and a phone number that I assumed was his. I sat for twenty minutes sipping at my tea and trying to make sense of his book. I packed up my stuff, paid and went back home.

When I got back I assumed the house was empty and went through to my bedroom and dumped my stuff unceremoniously in the middle of the carpet before wandering through to the hallway to use the phone. I picked up the receiver and held it to my ear listening to the dialling tone. I was spinning the dial round putting in the first few digits of the number written inside the cover when I heard a stifled cough coming from the other room. I hung up the phone.

"Summer?" I called out peering round the doorway of the living room. There was no one there. "Are you home?" I stepped into Summers room and saw a figure sat alone on the edge of her bed. It was Noah.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, quietly confused.

"I live here, Noah. What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for Summer, she is my girlfriend after all."

"No, she's not, you two broke up,"

"I di-" He started before I interrupted him.

"How's the ginger?" I asked and he shot me a dirty look in the silence that ensued. I smirked at him, waiting to see what he'd say.

"It was a mistake,"

"I don't care. You're a prick."

"Bit harsh,"

"How did you get in here anyway?"

"Front door was unlocked,"

"Well it still is, that makes it plenty easy for you to leave."

Noah cursed under his breath but made his way to the door.

"Just tell her I came, please." He said with a sigh,

"Goodbye," I said in a merry, sing-song voice, slamming the door behind him.

Later in the afternoon Summer got back from her studio surrounded by the smell of the chemicals she used to develop the film.

"Have you been cooking, Primmy? I'm starving," she asked walking into the kitchen.

"Nice to see you too," I retorted sarcastically, "And no, I've been working,"

"You don't even have a proper job,"

"Sorry," I said, while Summer poked around the cupboards, "I can't hear you over how American you are,"

"What? I don't understand. Speak normal," She said the last two words very slowly and loudly: as if she was speaking to a particularly thick child.

"You are so uneducated, it's killing me," I made mock choking noise and she rolled her eyes at me. I turned the radio up a notch and bobbed my head in time to the beat as I sat on the counter. "Oh, by the way, Noah came round earlier"

"Yes," she said, trying and failing to sound nonchalant, "What did he want?"

"To see you. And grovel about how sorry he was. To be honest he didn't seem it, he didn't even knock, just let himself in,"

"Oh, well, um. Did he say anything else,"

"Not really," I said, "I called him a prick and told him to piss off."  
>Summer laughed half-heartedly and left the room.<p>

I was still sat on the counter swaying to the radio when Summer came back into the room a minute or so later and started talking really quickly and excitably and very high-pitched.

"Why didn't you tell me, Prim?"

"Tell you what?"

"That John sent you his book,"

"Did you rea-"

"You have to call him!"

"Okay, I will," I said and she stared at me expectantly, "When you're not here listening in on my every word."

"Fine then 'Miss Prim-Primrose', you do what you like. I'm going down to the shop and you better have called him by the time I get back,"

When Summer left the house I had a bit of an emotional battle. Of course I wanted to call John, but I also wanted to wind her up. So I stayed where I was, swaying to the radio.

Summer

I had a song stuck in my head that I couldn't quite remember. I had all the damn harmonies mixed up in my mind and so assumed it was the Beach boys, but it could easily have been anything. I quickly thought of any other song I could use to distract myself from the nervous knotting in my stomach. I was coming back from the shops, and my feet hurt like hell from walking so far in new shoes. I prayed that our car would be fixed soon. I finally reached the flat and traipsed up the stairs. I dumped the bulging plastic bags on the kitchen table and threw myself on the couch.

"I'm dying!" I exclaimed and kicked my shoes off, waiting for some kind of reaction. The place was awfully quiet except for the far away beat of Prim's tinny record player. "Not that anyone cares," I murmured to myself. My little kitten jumped beside me on the sofa and nudged into my side, I was already beginning to fall asleep. I woke up after what may have been five minutes but seemed like an hour. There was a soft knock at the door. I was still a little confused from having just woken up. Prim's record player was no longer on, and the knocking was getting a little louder. I walked over to the door and opened it with my eyes half closed.

"Summer." The familiar voice knocked me out of my tired state. Who other than Noah, of course. I wasn't even sure how to respond to him, everything had changed.

"Can I come in?" No, I thought. No you bloody well can't. But for some unknown reason I still opened the door. Following the events of two days ago I had spent a lot of time thinking about him and what he'd done to me and how I could get my revenge. I had already planned out all the angry, snidey and vaguely witty things I would tell him, but now that He was actually stood here in front of me my mind went blank. I just wanted him back. Finally I felt something coming up.

"What do you want?" Not exactly my point, but I was getting there.

"I wanted to talk. About, the other... day?" He started off confident in his answer but his voice got higher towards the end of the sentence, finishing it as a question to himself.  
>I walked over to the living room door and he followed casually. I threw myself on the sofa and turned away from him. What I really felt like doing was slapping him until the word "sorry" was imprinted on his face. Gosh, I really hated him right now. I was starting to regret even letting him in. He closed the door behind him and I could feel him sit himself at the edge of the seat. He sat down gingerly with his feet planted firmly on the ground, the same way he'd sat the first time he went to my parents' house. It was probably the same way he always sat, but now that he wasn't mine, I wanted to erase the silly memory from my mind. He looked at me for a few minutes and I stared back at him. For a moment I forgot to be angry at him. Then he spoke.<p>

"I'm sorry about it all." He said after a while. The same way a child admits that they're sorry for kicking dust in your eye. It was unconvincing, and it sounded like it hurt him to say it as much as it hurt me to hear it. I decided not to respond. What did he expect me to say after all? That it was all forgotten and could he please come crawling back with his tail between his legs and it would all be fine? He tapped my leg as if to check if I was still awake, but I moved it away.

"This is so pointless on your part. I don't forgive you. As a matter of fact, I decided I hate you."

"You hate me?"

"I've decided." I didn't say the 'hate' part again, because it sounded so harsh coming from his lips, and I was afraid that it sounded worse coming from mine.

"Are you going to hate me forever?"

"I'm not sure yet, but when I find out, I'll be sure not to call you about it."

"You're such a child."

"Why are you sorry again?" I would have turned to look at him, but I was much too pissed off. I could already feel the hot tears running down my cheeks and I didn't want to show them off. All I wanted now was for him to say it out loud and in the open. He sighed.

"Summer, don't make me – "

"Oh, but why can't you say it?" I half laughed as I wiped the tears from under my eyes.

"You already know why I'm trying to say sorry. And I am, I really am."

"You're boring me. I don't want to hear all about how you're oh so sorry. Come on, give me a reason." A slight smirk started to tug on the corners of my lips. I knew I was being a bitch, but making him feel stupid somehow made my situation seem less upsetting and humiliating.

"What about you? All those times? I guess now that the tables are turned its different?"

"What tables? I never slept with anyone else, if that's what you're even trying to apologize for."

"Plenty of times."

"Yeah? Do tell, I'm rather interested."

"That Dylan–guy?"

"That happened before we were even going, stop joking. Bob Dylan?"

"Yes. Don't act stupid, in my head we were going! And then you answered that door and– "

"And what?" I teased. I wouldn't have been so harsh about it, if it was true. But it wasn't. It was before we were even going out and after a kiss we shared. Last time I checked, a kiss isn't a promise to marriage or anything.

"I'm pretty sure you had nothing on."

"That's not true. I had the radio on." I teased back with a smirk he couldn't see, but could surely hear.

"I'm sorry." He repeated again, almost admitting defeat.

"How's that ginger?" I asked pretending like I didn't care. He sighed and got up.

"I apologized. Maybe I'll come back later, when you're feeling better."

"No, honest. How is she, Noah?"

"You oughtta know. Look, I'll come back later. I'm sorry, babe." He left the room with his head facing his feet. I threw myself back on the cushions. The fact that he even showed up at my door was surreal. I had been so sure when I left I never wanted to see him again but there I was still hoping for him to run back and make it all better. But I knew that I wouldn't let that happen. If anything, the scariest part of this conversation was when he said 'You oughtta know'. What was that supposed to mean? I contemplated those words for a moment. Then it hit me. I could feel my throat swelling up and my eyes filling with tears before I had even had time to consciously work it out. Of course I oughtta know. Those auburn curls, I felt stupid for not noticing them at the exact moment I saw them. It was Eleanor. And I didn't even want to believe it. It was no wonder she hadn't called me. Eleanor – my best friend slept with my boyfriend. Should I have known better? I didn't even care anymore. The best solution I could think of was crawling into my bed and pretending like I didn't exist. Most of all – pretending like I didn't have that lingering thought of wanting him.

I woke up at 2:34 in the morning and mindlessly crawled from my bed. I slowly shuffled into the hallway. A haze of orangey street light glow was coming in through the thin curtains in the living room, making the whole flat just about light enough for me to grope my way down the hall without knocking anything over. I padded down the hallway, finally pausing when I reached the small, wooden table that the phone was sat on. I dialled the number that was scrawled over a paper poking out the corner of the address book. It rang and rang. I was about to hang up when I heard a "hullo" on the other end.

"George?" I said, "It's Summer."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Summer_

I hung up the phone and felt my way back to my bedroom. I couldn't help but giggle a little at the fact that I just got off the phone with George Harrison, and the sun hadn't even come up yet. I could see the glow of light peeking from under Prim's room and a light fade of music playing in the background. As I nearly made my way towards her room, I stopped myself and turned back, facing the harsh reality that the floor was too damn cold to risk it. I opened my bedroom door, and right away noticed the time on my clock that read 3:45 am. I had been talking to George for nearly an hour! Oh, the poor man.

..

I opened my eyes. Funny, how one second, you think you're doing something, and then you open your eyes and realize that you had been sleeping. I don't even remember laying down last night, but if dreams were real, then I had just come back from visiting queen Victoria. My kitten meowed at the door, and the smell of bacon was seeping in from outside. I lazily lifted one arm into the air, before deciding that it was warm enough to get out from under the covers. As I walked around the room, opening all of the curtains, and letting air in from the terrace, I went over all the things that George and I had spoken about last night. I almost felt stupid for calling off our date. He was so sweet! And funny. And handsome. And funny. Oh, and funny? Shit, he was perfect. And sexy. Gosh, breakups are freakin' depressing. They make you cry and call of dates with hot rock stars and what not. I walked over to the kitchen and saw Prim doing her usual eat bacon, read newspaper, drink orange juice, and sigh – routine.

"Hey, Primmy."

"Ugh it's you." I giggled and threw a piece of the bacon I was eating at her.

"Miss Prim – Primrose Lennon, huh?" I mocked and she threw the piece back at me.

"Oh, and what about Mrs. Harrison over here, huh?" I sighed.

"Not anymore." Oh, this intrigued her. She turned around in her seat and nearly jumped.

"Why? What did you do now?" I laughed and took a piece of her toast.

"I called off the date, Prim. I just broke it off with Noah, I'm not trying to start the cycle all over again." She turned back to her plate slowly and spoke more softly.

"He was asking for a date, not trying to arrange a marriage. When did you do that anyway? Call it off?"

"This morning."

"This morning! You're never even up this early an I've been awake for a while now. What time exactly?"

"Like at two…"

"Two! Oh goodness, was he even awake?"

"Yeah, he had just gotten back from some press- party or something like that. You see Prim, there was this lady! Oh my gosh, he said she must have weighed like a zillion pounds, and she just wouldn't let go of him, and – "I cut myself off to giggle a little and then ended the entire story that I was beginning to tell. Prim smirked,

"Aha, and how long do you think you're gonna last?"

"Last? Last before what?"

"Before you call him back and set up that date you know you want."

"I can want all I want, Prim." I waved my bacon at her and took a bite off it. "Who made you the love guru anyway? When do you plan on calling Johnny boy?"

"What's this?"

"What's what?" She sat staring at the newspaper she was reading, with an intense eye.

"This. Oh, wait.. Is this the real reason you called off your date with George?" I swallowed Prim's orange juice and snatched the paper from her while she mumbled something about manners.

"Just spotted…. Dylan…. Photographer…" I burst out into laughter. Prim stared back amused and then snatched the paper back.

"Is that my sweater!... I want that back." She pointed at the photo.

"Oh please, I haven't seen that sweater in ages. These tabloid people, they're a little slow on the job, huh?" I laughed again.

"Oh, this was last year. No wonder, you look thinner here." She laughed and stuck her tongue out at me. I rolled my eyes playfully and snatched the paper back to see if it was true.

"Shut up, Prim. So about that John, You plan on calling him back when?"

"What if George sees this photo. He's going to think that this is the reason you called off the date."

"Prim. John. I mean, surely George is smart enough not to believe the tabloids. He should know better."

"Yeah, I guess that's true. Right, John... What time is it? Listen I havta go. Bye Summer. Clean the house, okay?" She smirked at me and rushed out of the house without giving me a second to speak.

_Prim_

I wandered out of the lecture hall with a few of my friends, blinking my eyes in the bright sunlight. I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and tugged on my shirt in the way I do when I've been sitting down for a long time. Stood outside in the courtyard were the usual suspects. All the posh kids in their fashionable mod clothes chatting and laughing in the sunshine. It was abnormally warm for May, there was a definite buzz about the place, as if summer had come unexpectedly early and had to be enjoyed as much as possible before it was washed away for another year. I walked through this scene feeling altogether quite cheerful, despite having nearly failed my last paper I'd handed in. I was easily affected by the weather and the moods of other people. As I walked through the gate and onto the street I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.

"Excuse me," he said as I turned around to look at him. He was wearing thin cigarette trousers and a white tee-shirt with dark sunglasses that covered most of his face. Along with that he was wearing a large, floppy straw hat with a lime green ribbon round it and a plastic moustache that looked suspiciously as though it had been stuck on with cellotape, "Miss Prim-Primrose?"

"John?" I said in disbelief before I burst into a fit of giggles.

"Shh," he hissed, "I'm trying to keep a low profile."

"Yeah, I'm sure you won't attract any attention dressed like that," I commented reaching up to adjust the bow on his hat.

"Don't you look cute?"

"You'll never find a man with yer being so sarcastic," he said putting on an old woman's voice and waggling his finger at me.

"May I remind you that you are the one stalking me, Lennon?" At the mention of his name a few girls stood nearby turned around to stare at us before giggling and talking excitedly. At that moment a strong gust of wind whistled down the road blowing John's Easter-bonnet-esque hat off his head.

"Shit," he cursed as we watched the hat blow down the street, land in the middle of the road and get crushed under a passing van, "That was my favourite hat." As he finished talking one of the girls screamed.

"Oh my god! It's John Lennon!" Screams erupted around us as the girls started to swarm in.

John turned to me, "Are you a good runner?" he yelled over the screeching around us.

"I don't know,"

"Well, let's find out." he said as he grabbed my hand and started to run at full pelt down the street. Having not done any running since school PE lessons (besides the occasional sprint for the bus) I struggled to keep up with John; he obviously got a lot of practice running away from screaming fan-girls. Though I assume he didn't usually have another girl holding his hand and slowing him down.

We ran round the crowded London streets for a few minutes until a sympathetic taxi driver pulled over next to us and we both dived into the back seat of the cab, slamming the door shut as the hoards of girls caught up with us. John instructed the cabbie on where to take us. I couldn't hear what he had said over the ringing in my ears and the sound of my heart beating in my mouth. I was so out of breath I thought for I moment I was going to be sick. Instead I lay my skull back on the headrest, closed my eyes and concluded that I was out of shape.

After catching my breath I realised that we were travelling through a neighbourhood I didn't recognise. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"You'll see," said John, reclining in his seat.

"Why the mystery, Lennon?"

"No reason. There doesn't have to be a reason for everything I do, you know?"

"Okay..." I trailed off taken aback by the defensive tone to his voice. I looked over at him, desperately trying to think of something to say to break the silence but everything I thought of seemed incredibly petty or childish. I stared out the window for a while watching the crowds of people bustling down the streets in their hoards. Eventually the taxi drew to a stop on a quiet suburban street. It was deserted except for one old woman stumbling along with her shopping, leaning on a walking stick. John paid the driver and we climbed out the back seat onto the pavement. The area looked very posh, the houses were tall and made of stone and London Plane trees lined the street casting the pavement in a dappled shade.

Am I allowed to ask where we are yet?" I said looking up at John stood next to me on curb.

"Nope," he said taking my hand, "Follow me it's not far now." John started quickly down the street and I had to skip like a child to catch up with him.

We walked for a little less than 5 minutes when we stopped outside a building which the sign outside declared to be Abbey Road Studios. John dragged me inside the foyer and told me to wait there for a bit and he'd be right back. To be honest I was bit dumbstruck as I sat there. I mean, I had just been taken to Abbey Road Studios, by John Freaking Lennon. The girl with blonde pin curls behind the desk looked at me with an expression of disdain on her face but I was a bit too excited for it to bother me. I was like a child on Christmas Eve, I could barely sit still in my seat. I smoothed my dress across my lap as John came back into the room.

"Coast's clear, come on, luv," he said as we walked through into studio 3. The room was brightly lit by electric lights on the ceiling. There was a window on one wall behind which a producer was sat behind a mixing desk. There was a haze of cigarette smoke in the room. In the middle of the room sat a drum kit and behind it perched on the stool behind it was Ringo Starr. Then, stood talking in front of the kit were Paul McCartney and George Harrison. I looked up and John stood next to me and he winked before walking up to talk to the other 3 quarters of The Beatles. I sighed in satisfaction as I thought about how lucky I was and how every girl in the country would give an arm and a leg to be in my position now. I realised that that scared me. The sound proofing in the studio made my sigh stop dead and hang in the air. I stepped forward.

"You're an idiot, John," I heard someone whisper hurriedly.

"Shh,"

"Hi," I said, waving awkwardly, "I'm Prim."

"Ringo," said Ringo, fixing his blue eyes on mine and shaking my hand.

"Nice to meet you," I smiled, blushing faintly.

"I know you," announced George, "You're Summer's friend,"

"So I am," He nodded his head and smirked, turning around with his guitar in hand.

"Summer's friend, eh?" interjected Paul, "Photographer Summer?"

"The very same," I replied, nodding slightly.

"All the pieces suddenly fall into place," he said, sounding slightly irritated, "So you shagged the photographer and then her flat-mate? Well, aren't you classy, Lennon?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"We didn't-" John and I both said simultaneously before being cut off by Paul.

"Sure," he said before sidling off strumming on his bass guitar that was hung around his neck.

"Oh, Paulie. No need ta be jealous now."

"Can we just get this done, Lennon? I'm tired."

I walked away and left them to their own conversation. As much as this was every girls dream – including mine – I couldn't help but feel like I was intruding on some major thing. I sat back and savoured the moment, pretending as if it was happening the way I always imagined it would

_Summer_

The house was clean. My hair was done. My kitten was fed. I threw myself on the couch with a sigh and stared at the cock waiting for a minute to pass. The sun was beginning to set, I sort of wondered where Prim was. Life was starting to immensely bore me right now.

"Meow." I laid on the couch and made cat noises to try to amuse myself. Obviously not working.

There was a ruffling noise of feet coming up the stairs. A stop, which usually meant someone had tripped. A laugh. Yup, someone definitely tripped. And then a ruffling of feet again. I could hear from the distance, the voices of more than one person. I quickly but quietly ran to my room, picking up my kitten on the way there, and swiftly shutting the door. I threw on one of my best dresses and slipped into my shoes.

"Summer, I'm home. And we have some guests." I opened the door and saw the last people I would expect.

"She comes out holding a cat." John. Of course, I knew Prim would come around.

"Honestly John, you have to get over me." I joked and winked an eye. Paul was sitting off to the side, fiddling around with the little things that lay about on the coffee table. I let the kitten down and flattened my dress from the back. I was almost back to comfort when I heard that one familiar voice. Goodness, I could melt!

"Hey, Kitty.." I could immediately feel my cheeks burning up, and my lips forming into a cheesy smile.

"Look at you, why are you so red all of a sudden, Summer?" I shot my eyes at John before turning around and nearly bumping into George.

"Hi, George." He smiled and gave me a hug, so I kissed him on the cheek because he was just too cute to resist.

"Gee, its disgustin' in ere."

"Do you ever shut up, John?"

"Not if his life depended on it." George mumbled and threw himself on the couch. Suddenly Prim came out from the kitchen with a tray in her hand.

"Hey, I have – oh, well I see we've all gotten acquainted? She smirked and nudged my shoulder. I rolled my eyes playfully and whispered,

"Thanks, Primmy." She winked back at me.

"I've got drinks!"

…

The night was young and we all sat around the couch, laughing at something that wouldn't have been as funny if we were alone. This night was definitely working in my favour. I was so close to George that our knees were touching. He even put his arm around me every once in a while. While I tried not to pay attention to the telepathic conversation Prim was trying to have with me, I began nodding for her to make her own move. Paul had gone out to smoke a cigarette so I found this as my perfect opportunity. A win win? Yes, I'm so smart sometimes. It scares me. I mentally slapped myself for being such a geek and stood up from my place on the couch.

"Why don't you and I go choose a record, George? John's voice is deafening." I smirked at Prim and John, who were sitting nearly five damn feet away from each other. She gave me the eye from a distance, but I skipped off with George before I could respond with a smirk.

Immediately, George awkwardly made his way to the record shelf and searched through it. I threw myself on the bed and picked on my nails. He stopped looking and sat on the edge of the bed. I pulled myself up to my knees and leaned my head on them tiredly, trying to figure out some kind of wise thing to break the surprisingly not awkward silence.

"So I know I had called off the original, but can we count this as the backup first date?" I smiled and turned my head to look at him. He smiled which made me blush more than I already was.

"Only if I'm allowed to treat you to a second one." I giggled and stood up from the bed.

"Is that a question, because I'd be quite pleased to answer It." He laughed and stood up too.

"Would you, Summer, like to go on a date with me, George. The Beatle" He winked at the word Beatle as a way of jokingly trying to persuade me. I giggled and kissed his cheek before skipping out into the living room where I saw Prim and John, sitting a little closer than before. George ruffled his hair and smiled at the ground as he walked out of my room. Butterflies (Which had been in my stomach all day) had begun forming 10X faster. Paul casually walked in through the door and stopped when he saw the dumb image of teen-like love on our faces.

"Did I miss an orgy of some sort?" He spoke seriously and we all burst into laughter. I mean, you should have seen the look on his face.

What were the chances that these young handsome men all met up and formed a band that could actually sing? They were just too cute.

"So about that question you were so eager to answer?" George smirked as he spoke softly near my ear. I smiled back.

"Any time, Harrison."


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N. I'm so sorry. It's been so long, I've really missed you guys, we had some trouble with computers and laziness and all that good stuff. But none the less here is the chapter shining and new, freshly uploaded from my hard drive. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Chapter 4**

Prim

I'd often been to this bar on Fridays and Saturdays and it was always packed, but right now I was stood here alone (save for the band who were tuning up in the corner). We'd hired the place out for Summer's twenty-first and the guest weren't due to arrive for another 35 minutes. I walked around the room glancing over everything and checking that it was all ship-shape (so to speak). The bar looked odd with all the lights up: the wooden flooring too polished and reflective; the red cushions on the chair too vivid.

I started to shake. I had organized this whole thing. What if no-one turned up? what if Summer hated it? What if the sky fell in?

I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrors hung near the bar. My chocolate brown hair was teased into a bee hive hair-do and my eyes were rimmed with thick black eyeliner and coat upon coat of mascara. I wore a royal blue shift dress (which was uncomfortably short) and black heels (which were uncomfortably tall). The overall effect was that I looked very stylish and very pale and nothing like myself. I tugged on the dress a little, hoping it might grow by a couple inches. No such luck.

I glanced impatiently at the clock, it was now a quarter to 8. Summer should have been here by now. The plan was for her and George to turn up a few minute before everyone else so that he could be here when people started to arrive. Summer wasn't rightly supposed to know that we were planning party for her but she figured it out when a massive crate of wine was delivered to our flat last Monday.

Right on cue I heard the door swing open and shut along with the sound of two people talking followed with Summer's distinctive I-don't-think-that-joke-was-funny-but-i-fancy-you-so-I'll-laugh-anyway laugh.

"Hey guys," I said walking through the main room with the door that opened onto the street. "Happy birthday, summer!" I yelled a bit too loudly "I would've got you a proper present, but this place cost a bloody fortune to hire out!"

"It's the best place for miles around, so I forgive you."

"Oh, thank goodness for that."I said, my voice dripping in sarcasm. "Don't think I could've slept without getting your forgiveness, your majesty."

"Drop the sarcasm, Prim. It doesn't suit you" She laughed.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "Anyway, people will be turning up in 10 minutes or so, so if there's anything you need sorted out you'll need to do it now."

"Oh, how organized of you Primmy." She said running off round the bar to adjust the position of the chairs and wine glasses and tell the band that they are under no circumstances to play anything by Frank Sinatra or they wont get paid.

….

An hour later, everyone had arrived and the party was in full swing. The room was packed with famous and/or interesting and/or beautiful people. But there was really only one person I wanted to talk to. I peered over the tops of peoples heads and couldn't see him anywhere in the throngs of party-goers.

_Ugh_, I thought to myself. _You fancy that guy way too much, Prim._

I eventually went up onto the terrace where I found him, Ringo and Paul stood talking amongst themselves while a group of girls stood close by them talking very loudly and trying to attract their attention.

"Hi boys," I said as I approached them.

"Hi, Prim," John said "You know I almost didn't recognize you there. You've done something different with your hair?"

"Hmm, yeah," I said blinking in the declining light, "I'll take that as a compliment!"

He nodded in reply, "You should."

I smiled up at him in the pause that followed. The sound of the band from downstairs carried through the ceiling and I swayed to the beat slightly.

"What do you think of the band?" I asked as they started playing yet another song.

"We're better" chirped Paul, "you shoulda had us play."

"You see, I would have but I cant afford you," I laughed.

"Of course you cant," said John smirking,

"Besides, its our day off."

"Our only day off, as well mind," confirmed Ringo, nodding before being dragged off to dance with some girl I recognized as one of Summer's many immature friends.

I turned back to John "Can I get you a drink? We have wine, wine and more wine."

"Are you trying to get m-"

"Yes, please love" interrupted Paul who I had forgotten was standing right next to me.

"Right," I said feeling quite perplexed,

"Be back in a mo-"

I hurried off to find a bottle of wine (which wasn't very hard) and clean glasses (more challenging). Eventually I completed my quest and found myself clutching the glasses filled with deep red liquid and weaving around various members of The Rolling Stones (they seemed to get everywhere and there were only 5 of them) as I made my way back to where John and Paul were stood.

"Ta, love" said Paul with a wink.

"You're welcome," I said despite the fact that Paul had already started wandering off with some girl, firing the ever cheesy "Don't I recognize you? Are you famous or something?" line at her, causing her to blush and giggle and suck up to him sickeningly.

"You know, this is really terrible wine," John said , interrupting my thoughts and taking another swig of his glass.

"Well, excuse me if we cant all be millionaire-wine-connoisseur-rock-stars," I laughed as John took another glug from his glass, nearly finishing it off. "Doesn't stop you drinking it like it's going out of fashion, though."

"It is" he replied, "Anyway, the drunker you get, the better it tastes"

"How classy" I said taking a sip as he finished his glass. From below our feet the band started to play Wah Watusi by The Orlons.

"Do you wanna dance? I love this song!" John started to flail his arms around, he truly was a terrible dancer. Not that I was much better though.

_Baby, baby when you do the fly your arms are wasted waving in the sky._

I hummed along with the band as I danced along to the beat. As we danced, John grabbed me round the waist, pulling me towards him.

_C'mon and hold me like a lover should,_

John tipped my head up and kissed me as we swayed slightly to the music. I could feel John tapping 2 of his fingers along with the beat on my back. 1-2-3-4-1-2-3-4. I noticed that my heart was beating in double time.

_Watusi makes you feel so good._

_Wah, wah watusi,_

_C'mon and take a chance and get with this dance._

_  
><span>Summer<span>

We reached the corner of the block and waited for a taxi to pass. George was wearing a black silk top hat. I looked at him for a moment and laughed. The party was still on, but we had decided to go off and do our own thing. We were tired of parties anyway.

"Oh, I'm sure no one's going to recognize you in that." I took a bite out of my red vine and waved it around his face with amused eyes.

"It's all I could find." He laughed and grabbed the red vine, taking a bite out of it. I grabbed his top hat and played with it on my head. Rain began to fall in heavy drops. He took a newspaper from the free stand and held it over his head, dancing comically. I doffed the hat to him and he held out his hand for me. Dancing in the rain. However cliché it was, didn't really matter. It was the most fun I'd had after hours. He danced with one arm holding the paper over his head, making funny faces. He threw the paper back on the stand, and lightly brushed his eyebrows with his fingers.

"Taxi!"

We crawled into the back of the taxi as George uttered my address to the driver. I quietly played with the fabric of the hat and placed it back on his head as soon as he sat back.

"I think the hat makes you look oh so handsome, Harrison."

"Yeah, you didn't look so bad in it either y'know" He played it cool and then turned back to me with a laugh.

"You're that Beatle guy, aren't you?" The driver looked into the mirror.

"Yes, sir." George answered with a hint of a small sigh.

"My daughters love you. Emily loves you and Sara, she loves that guy.. the one with the big nose."

"Ringo! " I took the hat off of George again and sunk back into my seat, playing around with it as George autographed a leftover napkin.

A stop and we were finally in front of the flat. Outside was nearly pitch dark, there were hardly any street lights around here. George grabbed my hand as we walked across the street. I was thankful that he couldn't see how much my cheeks were on fire. I found it funny how he was leading me to my own apartment. I opened the front door and giggled at a joke George had made. My hand trailed up and down the wall searching for the light switch. George walked in and the light turned on. Apparently the light switch had moved onto the other wall. We both laughed. Anyone would have thought we were drunk. We slowly and quietly walked up the stairs. I opened the door again and threw myself on the couch. George closed the door and smiled.

"Honey, I'm home!" I giggled a little as he loosened his tie and poked his head in the kitchen. He walked back over to the couch and smiled.

"I was thinking the other day about this place. It's nice ya'know." He turned around and began walking around the house.

"So what exactly do you do for a living?"

"I'm a photojournalist. But I mostly work photographing musicians. I have an office in the city. Nothing really all that official" He nodded his head, still peeking into some of the rooms as I talked from leaning on the kitchen counter.

He opened the door to my bedroom and turned his head.

"This one's yours, right?"We both walked into the bedroom. I turned on the small lamp as George leaned on my dresser playing with all the little things.

"You think they even noticed that we're gone?" He flashed a crooked smile and shrugged his shoulders.

"They're all too absorbed in themselves," He answered matter-of-factly, raising his eyebrows slightly. Who the hell made him so cute? I walked over to the records and flipped through them looking for one to play.

"So are you a fan of us?" I turned to him and caught a glimpse of him flashing a cheeky smile, before turning back to the records.

"Um, love love me do?" I sang the words, trying to hear the song in my head and make sure it was one that they actually sang.

"That's us – by your tone I take it you're not a fan?"

"Well, I mean, I like real rock and roll." I scrunched my face and mentally slapped myself for saying it like that. George hit his chest with his fist and joked with a mockingly hurt face.

"No, I mean, you guys are real big out here, but I don't listen to the radio. I mean, what I do is I stick to my records – the ones I already have. Its just – its not like our car radio actually works, so I just listen to the songs I like at home." I stopped and laughed a little. "Pay no attention to me. Go, if you'd like. I'm just a rambling idiot. Who never learnt when to shut up –"

"And who never listens to the radio." I laughed and gave up on choosing the music to play.

"So where did you come from? I mean, you're not really English."

"Nope, not at all. I'm from south Carolina actually."

"Really, you don't sound it." I sighed and laid back on the bed.

"I moved around a lot. I never really lived in one place since I was about.. maybe 16?" I felt like a forty year old telling her childhood stories when really, it wasn't that long ago.

I could feel my eyes wanting to close on their own and I began to yawn.

"A story for another time. What about you? You're obviously very English."

He laughed and laid beside me. "Life is way too long to explain right now too. A lot of touring and stuff. You do what they tell you to do."

"I've heard. Is it really as hard as they say? Touring and all that?" he scoffed and turned to me.

"If you value your sleep – then very hard!"

"Can't be that bad then. But then I guess there's other stuff to miss?"

"Yeah. Well, home made food. We eat all the fancy stuff now. Its good- just not right though. But I don't have as much to miss as the other guys, ya'know? They all have their girlfriends and wives and that."

"Wives?" I had never pictured any of the boys being married. I knew how rock stars lived.

"Well, wife really- it's only John that's married. Got a kid too." I was in complete shock. A wife? A kid? John? Ha.

"I would have never thought. Wow. A kid? He's quite the flirt."

"That's John. He's got a thing for Prim, ya'know?"

I scoffed, "Yeah, I know. And his wife, she doesn't care?" he shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes for a moment.

"I guess..." George trailed off and finished with a shrug of his shoulders.

Prim

Several hours and bottles of wine later John and I arrived back at my building. I fumbled with my keys, trying 3 different ones before finding the right one and unlocking the front door to the building. I tripped slightly as we entered the foyer and he laughed loudly at me.

"Shh," I hushed him in a stage whisper, "We'll wake everyone up,"

"I didn't say anything,"

"You just did,"

"Did not,"

"Shh,"

The stairs, of course, were a challenge. They were stubbornly steep and tall at the best of times, but when you had consumed a few more alcoholic beverages than could be considered sane, they were damn-near impossible to negotiate. John started on them first, going up 2 steps at a time and dragging me by the hand. My shoes were proving to have been a stupid choice, I tripped several times whilst climbing the stairs that night, making a hollow bang each time my knees crashed into the steps.

Eventually we reached the top of the stairs and I fumbled with my keys (third time lucky again). We stumbled into the flat bumping into each other as John and I both tried to get through the doorway at the same time. John pulled me into the hallway: I giggled loudly at how serial the situation seemed. The door slammed behind us, the sound reverberating through the walls as I tripped in my heels towards my bedroom. When we entered the room I slipped off my stupid shoes and shrank by about 5 inches. I then ran over the carpet to turn on the radio, a girl band was playing, filling the room with shoo wops. I stood listening for a few second, feeling mildly disorientated, before I felt John's arms wrap around my waist and his lips pressing on mine. We fell back on the bed and he pulled my dress over my head as I began unbuttoning his shirt.

And I shan't bore you with the details, but they didn't call it "Swinging London" for nothing.

**A.N. Don't forget, the review button is your friend!**


	5. Chapter 5

****.A/N: Mandy: Do you hate us? Yeah, I know. Its been about FOREVER since we've updated. Don't blame Beth. It was all my fault. Bla blab la. I had work and now school and sometimes I even have a , anything else to say, Beth?****

****Beth: Sometimes you even have a what? What!? I am curious now you will have to tell me. But moving on, I don't think you can completely blame yourself, I mean there was a point where I didn't reply to your messages for like a fortnight, but in my defence I was on holiday in the middle of nowhere (well, Devon but you know). Anyhow, moving on... I hope this will be a good chapter for you all.****

****Mandy: Oh, sometimes I have a life. Wtf is a fortnight?****

****Beth: its 2 weeks, bitch****

****So we wrote this chapter back in December, but I'm barely checking over it now. Sorry. **Okay, hold the hell up. I'm on Pandora and the song "(the best part of) breaking up" by the Ronettes just came on. Omg. It's a sign. (you'll understand in about three seconds) k bye.****

Summer

I could feel the burning over my eyelids as the light from outside danced around my face. I woke up in a cold mess of sheets. George was off to the side of the bed, still sleeping quietly. I got up and stretched, letting out a yawn as I tried to gather what had happened last night. I dazed off for a moment, not really thinking of anything when I heard the soft sound of the radio outside.

_The best part of breakin' up, is when you're makin' up_

I walked over to the mirror, tucking my hair in and making sure I looked half-decent to go out there.

"Morning" I turned around and saw George rubbing his eyes with a half-smile. I smiled back and looked at the clock at my bed side

"Good afternoon." He laughed and got out of bed

"It feels good to sleep in late. Nice bed you've got there"

I opened the door and the music got louder. Prim was at the stove, humming along to the music. She turned to look at us and raised an eyebrow.

"Can't say I didn't see this coming" I scoffed and walked over to the counter. George followed behind and searched the fridge.

"Yeah yeah, what are you making me to eat?"

"You? Nothing. Me? Breakfast. Well, lunch. Whatever. Did you like the party?"

"Lovely job, darling." I sarcastically held my arms out and gave her European air kisses.

"Lovely price."

"Thank youuuu, I actually really really loved it." I smiled. "Well, Prim, how did _you_ like the party?" Her cheeks got red and she looked at George who was leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, I kind of brought it home with me."

"It? Oh God, not Mick, right? Tell me you did not bring Mick home, he's disgusting! You might as well set up a doctors app-" Someone cleared their throat. I turned to look and seen John leaning on the wall.

"Well at least it wasn't Mick…" George scoffed and took a piece of toast from the counter.

"Top of the morning to ye'" John joked and walked towards Prim kissing her on the lips rather extravagantly.

"Prim, wheres my cat?"

"Your cat? What, I don't- "

"Help me find her." I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into her bedroom.

"Something I said?" John said making Prim giggle.

"Geeze, why would your cat even be in here? I think-"

"Prim, did you sleep with John?" I demanded and awkwardly looked behind my shoulder to make sure that I had closed the door.

"Well, you're not going to get any details out of this, but I guess yeah."

"You guess?"

"What's the issue here?" Without even thinking about how this would turn out, I blurted out,

"He's married!"

I saw Prim double take, "He's never, I mean, surely he'd have mentioned it... What?"

"He is,"

"How do you know?"

"George told me,"

"Seriously?"

I nodded in response.

"Fuck! Fuck-fuckity-fuckfuck!"

"I know,"

"Shit," Prim inhaled sharply and looked into the mirror, "Look at me, I'm a fucking home-wrecker. Next you'll be telling me he has children."

I smiled sheepishly, "Just one..."

"Oh god, sweet Jesus almighty, I am truly a bitch."

"Well, in fairness he didn't tell you."

"Yeah right, hang on, what excuse did you use to get me alone?"

"We're looking for my cat..."

"Classic," Prim giggled, "But you do realize now we have to actually find your cat now?"

"Don't be ridiculous, we'll just say ... Did we really just waste two seconds of my life discussing that? Who cares?"

"But we still have to go out there,"

"Hey, I'm sorry, y'know."

"He's a rockstar, I mean, I guess he does this kinda shit all the time"

I shrugged my shoulders and opened the door for her. We both walked into the kitchen.

Prim

Ugh, I took another bite of my bacon butty, I didn't like this, feeling like _the other woman. _I didn't even like bacon all that much- I'd only cooked it in an attempt to impress John with my culinary skills. Which I kind of wish I hadn't now.

How can that man be married? How could I have not known, surely it would've been in the papers?

I really hoped (and started to convince myself) that Summer was lying to me or misinformed or something.

"Prim!" John's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Yeah, what?" I replied vaguely confused.

He chuckled to himself slightly, "I said I have to leave now,"

"Oh, right, um, I'll see you off then," I said, following him out the room. I looked back to see Summer pulling the same disapproving expression I normally give her.

I smiled apologetically and shuffled quickly out of the room.

"John," I said shyly as we made our way down the stairs, "Um, how are you getting home?"

"I called a cab this morning," He shrugged, "while you were asleep,"

"Right," I nodded, staring at my feet. I noticed my little bag from the night before lying on one of the steps.

"Your bag, Miss," John picked up the bag and passed it to me.

"Thanks," I carried on down the stairs, fiddling awkwardly with the zip on my bag.

"Prim, I hope you don't regret this, I know I don't. I guess, we, well, it just feels right y'know?"

"John, are you really married?" I blurted

He hesitated.

"John!?" I stood still as we reached the foyer.

"C'mon Prim, you're a modern sorta girl,"

"You can't tell me what kind of girl I am, Lennon! You barely know me!" I was yelling now. I just felt so betrayed, which was incredibly stupid, I know. I was in the wrong but still. I took a breath, trying to calm myself down. "Please just, I just need to know,"

A car's horn sounded on the street outside. We both turned to look out the front windows and see a black cab parked on the road with an irritable looking driver sat inside.

"I have to go," John said walking out the double doors at the front of the building.

I watched him shuffle across the rainy street and into the back of the cab.

**Mandy: We're terrible, I know. Sorry if it wasn't as good as the last chappies. Idk, I kinda liked it though :) please review and tell us what you think/hope for in or about this story. We love you sooooo much. I'm sorry that we're terrible people who don't update, and when we do we update some short short chappies, I promise I'll get better at this updating thing :) byeee**

**Beth: Yeah, what she said. I'm back to summer (lolol) holidays now so obviously that means fanfiction is a priority or something :P But yeah, you should totally leave us reviews. I mean, it was a couple of nice reviews that made us update this time so you totally should tell us what you think of it. **


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